


Destiel Drabbles

by liznt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Birthday, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Old Castiel (Supernatural), Old Dean Winchester, Pining, Sleeping in the Impala (Supernatural), Sleepy Castiel (Supernatural), Tenderness, and sleepy jack, non-verbal Dean, praying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liznt/pseuds/liznt
Summary: Compilation of 100/200 word Destiel drabbles - Cas wanting Dean, Dean praying to Cas, Cas looking after Dean, and Dean being soft for Jack and Cas.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel wants to do something to Dean but he doesn’t understand what. He wants to ask Dean every question and tell him every answer. He wants to get so close to Dean that their forms overlap. Cas wants to lay Dean on a table and drag his nails over every angle of him until he unravels. He wants to bite him. He wants to run the top of his nose along the crease below Dean’s jaw. He wants to sleep where Dean can see him.

But Castiel also knows that humans have intricate and arcane rules for their every interaction. A single misstep could send Dean bolting like a startled horse. Or charging like an angered bear. So Cas has studied and studied again the movies Dean has shown him, looking in the lines and between the lines for his desires and how to enact them, and yet he cannot find them. Instead most of the things the humans do to each other make something uncomfortable twist deep in his gut. And so he does nothing.

\---

When humans pray- When Dean prays there are the words, yes, the, “Cas, it’s rough down here. Please, man, we need you,” but it’s the constant thrum underneath that pull Cas, the, _I need you I love you I love please come home please let me I love you-_ the words that are hardly words, the blood rushing in his ears, the flutter of wings, as Cas appears at his side. “Dean.”

\---

Cas looks down at Dean sitting on the couch, looking up at Cas with wide desperate eyes. His jaw is locked shut, the muscles working, no words able to escape him. Fists clenched on his thighs.

Cas steps close, close enough that Dean shifts his knees so that Cas can fit between them. With a hand on the back of his neck, Cas pulls Dean's head to rest against his stomach. His breath, sharp and ragged, dampens Cas' shirt. Cas scratches circles, endless circles, in Dean's hair until he relents, relaxes, nuzzles into Cas and unfurls his fists to slip his hands under his coat.

"You don't have to say it, Dean. I can hear you. I've always been able to hear you."

\---

Dean's driving, isn't he always, with rain on the windshield, and his rock playing almost too soft to hear.

In his peripheral vision, in shotgun, Jack is slumped to the left, temple against the window, dead to the world. Dean can't help but smile. That kid is gonna give him so many wrinkles.

In the rear-view, a mirror, is the perfect mirror - Cas in the back seat, slumped to the left, hand under his chin, temple against window, lips just parted. Breathing slow. The resemblance is absurd. The pair of them. A fast-moving flutter bursts from Dean's stomach and races to the tips of his lips.

Suddenly, keeping his eyes on the road is a feat of strength. And wouldn't it be so easy to lift his foot off the gas? Just coast to a stop, without a hitch, so soft they’d never feel it. And he could stay in this moment forever.

Or at least take a photo and send it to Sam: Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Dean lifts his foot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay the first two are like a leeeedle bit sad ngl, but the last one is niiice~

Cas says something bizarre: "Dean, I need you to tell me you love me."

Confusion. Suspicion. 

Dean hedges his bets, "In what way? Like a-"

"Any way."

"I love you every way." He says it without pause, without thinking, and then blinks in surprise at what came out of his mouth.

And Cas laughs sweet relief. Just for a moment it is beautiful, before he cracks and his face collapses into misery. 

"Cas?" Dean's hands fly upwards, but don't dare land on Cas, skating around him instead. "What the hell's going-" Dean freezes, even the air inside him freezes, when the thick black- the utter darkness- crawls over Cas' lapels. 

_Move, Dean. Move! Grab him, keep him, don't let go._

It swallows Cas whole, dissolves him under Dean's fingers.

Dean breaks too.

\---

He doesn't plan it but within an hour of Sam leaving he's in bed on his side, eyes open, but not there. He had just needed five minutes, he had thought an hour ago. The pain is a constant white noise ringing in his ears, and he'd just needed five minutes to let it take over, he'd thought three hours ago. Dean blinks and doesn't get up. 

Dean is white noise ringing after a concussion. 

Dean is not a man. Dean is nothing. He is empty. Empty. Just like Cas-

His entire body convulses with the sob. He gasps for air. Frantically grasping and ungrasping his sheets like a man lost at sea trying to keep a hold of rain soaked debris. Jamming knuckles between his teeth to keep his jaw open so he keep breathing. Listening to stretched noises break out of himself while his throat convulses.

He rocks back and forth until the waves stop hitting him, and then he lies glassy eyed again, waiting.

\---

It is the morning, or really the early afternoon, of Dean's 42nd birthday, and Cas has made him go brush his teeth.

When he spits and looks in the mirror, he sees not his first grey, but a whole rush of them, flowing out from his temples back to his ears. His whole beard is grey now, his stubble grows like frost on his jaw. Cas' curious frown peeks around the door. His body soon follows and he wraps himself around Dean's back, stretching himself to rest his chin on Dean's shoulder.

They both look at Dean through the mirror. "Hm, I can't resist him either," Cas says smirking, knowing exactly which act he's catching Dean in. Knowing exactly which half joke will keep Dean half sane. He laces his fingers with Dean's, lays them all together on Dean's chest, and they stand quiet, thumbs tracing idle circles after each other.

Cas' hair is no longer the brash, almost black it had once been, now faded grey-brown, almost purple in tone like slate. And the hollows of his eyes have filled with laugh lines that Dean is so very proud to have put there.

Cas drops a kiss on the join between Dean's neck and his shoulder. "When's everyone getting here?" he asks.

"Around four."

Cas kisses him again. Half an inch higher, half a linger longer. And mumbles, "We've got time," into Dean's neck.

"You not gonna order me into the shower too?"

"No." Cas presses his nose to Dean's skin and inhales as if Dean smells like oven fresh bread, like the first breath out of deep water, or- "I like how you smell today." -as if Cas can smell what he did last night.

_Oh God._

He's really kissing Dean's neck now. Hands firm, no longer idle.

_Cas._

"Cas-"

"Come back to bed, Birthday Boy."

**Author's Note:**

> [I usually post on Tumblr first ;)](https://liznt.tumblr.com)


End file.
